


Fla-Vor-Ice

by Arsenic



Series: Discipline and Punish [62]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-14
Updated: 2007-12-14
Packaged: 2020-03-29 23:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19030309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arsenic/pseuds/Arsenic
Summary: Tommy finds something.





	Fla-Vor-Ice

"Tommy, did you find--" Mikey's voice cut out suddenly. Then he said, "Oh."

Frank got off the couch and went into their room, where Mikey had sent Tommy to look for the hoodie he wanted to borrow. Tommy was on his knees, sort of crumpled outside the closet. One of his fingers was touching the Mary Janes. Mikey said, "Tommy--"

Tommy's gaze whipped to Mikey, uncertain and maybe a little betrayed. "What-- Why--"

"They're mine," Frank said.

Tommy shook his head. "I don't--"

Mikey slipped down to his knees next to Tommy but when he tried to touch him, Tommy shied away. Frank said, "I wanted to be made to feel like you had. But he wouldn't. He wouldn't do that."

Tommy's gaze flickered between the two of them. Finally he asked Mikey, "Why not?"

Mikey said, "It wasn't the same for me. They-- They'd raped me. Over and over and--" Mikey pressed a fist to his stomach. Frank thought about going to him, but then he took a breath, started again. "They'd made me watch while they raped Gee, made me participate in a way. This was just-- He was keeping me safe. And he never looked at me like it made me less or it made me more or anything; he looked at me like he didn't even see it."

Tommy's posture unfurled slightly. "I-- He didn't tell me what they did to you. I kind of, I mean. I knew the kind of things--"

Mikey put a hand to Tommy's shoulder and this time he allowed the contact. Mikey asked, "Did he look at you differently?"

Tommy looked down at his knees. "I don't know, I didn't notice. Maybe, I mean, I probably would have noticed if he did. Yeah, I would have noticed, so no. No I guess not."

Frank was trying not to talk, he was, because it wasn't his place, he wasn't the one who had been opened up and torn into and left with the need to discover new ways of completing himself, of _being_ , but he couldn't help the, "I'm _sorry_ ," that slipped from him.

Mikey looked up at him, face thunderous. "We agreed, Frank Iero."

They had, too. They'd made a pact that Mikey wouldn't ever thank Frank if Frank never apologized. Frank said, "Tommy and I didn't."

Tommy asked, "Agreed?"

"No apologies," was all Mikey said. "No saying sorry for doing what had to be done."

"You didn't fight as hard." Frank rubbed at his left wrist along the bottom line of the Mikey tattoo.

"I'd had the fight taken out of me," Mikey told him.

"No," Frank said. "No, you fought just fine when you needed to."

"I offered myself to Bob if it meant he'd stay away from Gee," Mikey said, which was something he'd never told Frank. It didn't surprise him all that much. Mikey had fought like someone who didn't have anything left to lose when Frank had first met him. Gerard had been safe by that time, but Frank knew enough about them to know that Mikey wouldn't have allowed himself the freedom of kicking back so hard if he'd been worried about the consequences to Gerard.

" _Bob?_ " Tommy was looking at Mikey like he was crazy.

"He was pretty scary when he first showed up." Mikey shrugged. Tommy seemed to consider this and deem it likely.

Frank rephrased: "You had your own ways of fighting."

Mikey looked at him hard and said, "You did too."

Things were silent for a bit before Tommy asked Frank, "Why'd you-- That first day, when I wasn't yours, wasn't anybody's, why'd you--"

There were a million good answers to that question, but the most important one was, "Because you needed it. Needed someone."

Tommy played with the tongue piercing, the way he did when he was nervous. He stroked one finger alongside the shoe and asked, "Did it-- Did these do what you wanted?"

Frank hadn't known it was what he wanted at the time, but, "Yes."

Tommy nodded slowly and then said, "I couldn't find the hoodie."

Mikey said, "Huh. I know it's in here somewhere."

 

*

Disashi was a workaholic. Frank could understand, Gerard and Bob were actually both a bit like that in their own separate ways. Disashi tried to be self-aware about it, but there were times when Frank had to resort to looking helplessly at either AJ or Maja who would then find a way of slowing Dishashi down to a normal, human sort of pace. The three of them seemed to be able to communicate with their brains, which Frank also understood, because he did that with Mikey sometimes, had seen Mikey and Gerard do it, or Bob and Gee, Ryan and Spencer, even Tom and Jon. What was sort of odd was that he'd never seen it in coworkers before, but it was a relief, because it kept the atmosphere of the office professional but not formal.

Maja had actually spent a fair amount of time on paralegal duties in one of her jobs in college, so she was able to help Frank with a lot of the more specialized knowledge and the basics he was able to pick up or figure out for himself. In any case, it turned out that he was good at a lot of the tasks they needed him for, that his tendency not to give up on anything came in very handy as a skill set.

Maja and Disashi did almost all the serious wining and dining of the donors, which meant that AJ was often the one who was stuck in the office with Frank on the evenings when overtime was required. It happened pretty often. At one point Frank said, "Look, maybe it's none of my business, but did you maul a client once, or something? Because you seem like a fairly personable guy."

AJ laughed. "I try. No, just, two years sober and I get nervous when things are on the line and none of us, least of all me, thinks it's a good idea for me to be nervous and have the option of a bottle of wine right there in front of me."

"Oh, okay," Frank said, and went back to trying to find precedent for the housing case that Disashi just couldn't get a break on. He could feel AJ watching him, though, so after a bit he looked up again. "Something wrong?"

"You didn't even blink."

"You guys hired a murderer."

"Man 1, and you were protecting a little girl. You think we didn't look? Seriously?"

"My point's still valid. I know other recovering addicts. It takes enough to stay off without people acting like you're gonna relapse all the time."

"They don't--"

"I didn't mean them, I meant someone like me, who hasn't got the right to judge. At all."

"Yeah, well." AJ tapped his pencil over the surface of the desk. "Still glad you didn't."

"You and me both," Frank said, and smiled.

"I'm gonna get a coke, you want something?"

"Coffee, please." There were at least four more books of rulings waiting for Frank.

 

*

The best part of the job was that despite all the overtime, he and Mikey were often able to be home at the same time, at least for a few hours a night. Also, it meant they both got more sleep. They were even able to manage dates once in a while. Mikey's favorite date spot was the ice rink. Both of them were horrible ice skaters, but their first date after Frank's release had been on the wintertime ice rink in the park. Mikey had persuaded Frank with a, "We'll hold each other up all right," and Frank hadn't been able to argue with that.

It was squarely spring at this point, so they were forced to find themselves an indoor skating rink. Gabe actually knew of one close by. Frank thought about asking him what he did at a skating rink because the thought of Gabe on skates was literally mindblowing, but he forewent it for the pleasure of making up crazy stories with Mikey, most of them involving the hiding of bodies.

Skating for them involved, predictably, a lot of falling, and Mikey was a bony, bony person, which meant that Frank generally left the rink more bruise than man. He wore the marks with pride and generally took Mikey out for pizza afterward, since it was their favorite warm up food ever. And now, when Mikey had things to tell Frank about his job, it wasn't just normality that lit his voice, but actual engagement, _joy_ even. And when Frank told his stories, he was pretty sure he sounded like he cared.

 

*

Sunday nights they could usually manage to have dinner as an apartment. Frank tended to go out to the prison on Sundays to pay Zack a visit, Bob worked half the day, Gerard usually taught a class in the afternoon, Tommy helped Alex at the kitchen in the morning, and Mikey had a shift at the hospital, but by evening they could all be back at the apartment so as to actually see each other as a group. Bob made dinner, Frank helping out sometimes. It was easier when it wasn't a job, and when the guy next to him was his friend. Mikey or Gerard or Tommy would set the table. Sometimes Tommy would make a dessert. He had a few that he knew how to do, now that Alex was teaching him things.

Sometimes Linda came over, or Ilya and his family, but mostly it was just the five of them and their stories on Sundays. Tommy and Gerard always had some pretty awesome ones regarding the label, which, so far as Frank could tell, was sort of like working inside a barrel of monkeys. Mikey would try to top them either with center gossip or hospital craziness. He could actually manage on occasion. Bob didn't tell that many stories, but the ones he found, it was like he saved up the absolute best ones, because they were always ridiculous and insane and all of them would try to prove they weren't _true_ , but Bob always managed to present enough evidence that it was impossible to do anything but believe him.

Frank's contributions tended to be more serious, about things going on to neighborhood denizens and what actions the firm was taking, but the bizarre mind-meld between The Great and Terrible Three--as Frank had taken to calling them to their faces--provided its fair share of awesome anecdotes.

It wasn't that they never spoke about serious things on Sunday night, they often did, but Tommy wasn't usually the one to bring them up. So when he said, "I-- There's something-- Fuck. Jon's roommate is moving out on him."

There was silence for a moment. Mikey said, "Yeah, they've been having problems for a while. I'm not surprised."

Tommy nodded. "I don't-- I _don't_ want you to think I haven't appreciated everything you've done. Everything. And this has been, I mean, I don't-- I'd probably be back in prison, okay? If it weren't for you guys taking me in and all. But I make a decent living now, and I'd sort of like to have my own room--"

"You're moving in with Jon?" Mikey was grinning.

"Well, I wanted to make sure you all felt all right about it, but I was sort of hoping to, yeah."

"That's _awesome_ ," Mikey said. "Seriously, we have to get you a bed, and actual drawers, you can't just live out of boxes anymore, it's been way too long--"

"I'm gonna miss you," Gerard said softly.

Mikey blinked. "I'll-- I'll miss him, too. But, like, I mean, we miss Linda, too right? And we needed to move."

Gerard shrugged. "Just saying."

Tommy was looking at Frank. Frank smiled at him. "Mikey's right, Tommy. Awesome."

"I'll still see you guys all the time," Tommy said. "Especially you, Gee, we freelance for the same label and work for the same art store and we're both at the center most of our lives."

"Still gonna miss you," Frank admitted. Bob nodded.

"Guess you'll have to come visit me at my new place," Tommy said, sounding both excited and trepidatious.

"We can ride in my car," Bob said. He was very, very close to finishing work on the Jaguar. Gerard buzzed a little beside him.

Frank said, "Visit? We're fucking moving you in, bitch."

Tommy laughed.


End file.
